<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082</id><updated>2011-07-08T00:27:42.844-07:00</updated><category term='God&apos;s Voice'/><category term='Friday Night'/><title type='text'>constant hope</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-819751331768197687</id><published>2010-08-23T06:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T09:01:09.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Hoots and A Holler</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/THJ9IC2XiXI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FPf1S9ReIhk/s1600/IMG_0590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/THJ9IC2XiXI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FPf1S9ReIhk/s320/IMG_0590.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508602871384869234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/THJ9HflO-fI/AAAAAAAAADs/jc039s3Qg6Y/s1600/IMG_0589.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/THJ9HflO-fI/AAAAAAAAADs/jc039s3Qg6Y/s320/IMG_0589.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508602861917764082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma is with Jesus now. Amazing! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The greatest Love she's ever known is looking her face to face. God is so good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm learning all kinds of things I never knew about Gram Gram. I knew she was fiercely proud of her family, and I knew she had the best laugh. But, I never knew she was on a bowling team called "Four Hoots and a Holler". Wow! So stinkin' funny. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a write up in the paper about her when she was a young adult. It was so neat, and it said that for Belle Patty, "beach parties are a way of life and not just a weekend activity". Amen to that, Gramma! I think Gramma knew that God intended life to be rich and full and fun. That's how she helped my life to be. I know her life sure is now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-819751331768197687?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/819751331768197687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=819751331768197687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/819751331768197687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/819751331768197687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2010/08/four-hoots-and-holler.html' title='Four Hoots and A Holler'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/THJ9IC2XiXI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FPf1S9ReIhk/s72-c/IMG_0590.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-7154172069537399363</id><published>2010-08-20T04:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T04:59:26.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet, sweet Jesus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/TG5uEf9UEwI/AAAAAAAAADk/Jjp--HzXDXY/s1600/DSC_2200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/TG5uEf9UEwI/AAAAAAAAADk/Jjp--HzXDXY/s320/DSC_2200.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507460417897894658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;My sweet and hilarious grandma is dying. I can scarcely believe I’m typing these words, but it’s true. My grandma is the best storyteller I know. She recalls the richest and the most minute of details, and one is compelled to listen to the life she makes come alive through words. I’m going to sorely miss my grandma. She’s a strong woman, and she makes me want to be stronger than I am. For most of her adult life she had men make her feel crushed and like something to be used and kicked around. But, you’d never know it. She knew it, but you wouldn’t. Now, though, she’s moments away from being in the presence of the One who has loved her before the foundation of time. In just moments, the most gentle hands that have ever touched her will wipe away her tears. She’ll be made to feel precious, beloved, cherished. I can hardly express how much I love that Jesus is that way. He’s so good. Amazingly good. Wondrously good. How can it be that He loves us this much? I don’t know, but I’m sure glad. I wish I could see the JOY that I know will light my grandma’s face when she looks into the eyes that love her beyond space, time, and reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-7154172069537399363?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/7154172069537399363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=7154172069537399363' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/7154172069537399363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/7154172069537399363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2010/08/sweet-sweet-jesus.html' title='Sweet, sweet Jesus'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/TG5uEf9UEwI/AAAAAAAAADk/Jjp--HzXDXY/s72-c/DSC_2200.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-2862211292118385789</id><published>2008-12-16T16:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T06:08:56.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God is good all the time, and all the time God is good.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SUhCg4Ad5mI/AAAAAAAAADY/FkXS8Hitw1E/s1600-h/Me+and+Sara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280543695649498722" style="width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SUhCg4Ad5mI/AAAAAAAAADY/FkXS8Hitw1E/s320/Me+and+Sara.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a photo of my aunt Sara and me at a place called "Milk and Honey" in my favorite city, Chicago. When I think of all the milk and honey, literally and figuratively, in my life, my heart can't help but sing a song of thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I think about the goodness of God, I can scarcely fathom it. His love is so sweet, so pure, so good, and I'm so thankful He loves me. I'm learning more and more that His love is made of stronger stuff than I can know. My friend Lee reminded me recently that Jesus is about the business of fixing, mending, restoring. Lee reminded me that God will fix, heal, repair, everything that is broken in me. I'm so thankful. This Christmas season always makes me think of Jesus's great love in coming to rescue us. He reminds me that He brought light into the darkness we knew. He brought freedom to the captives, and He saved my sick, weak heart. Not only that, He lovingly works in my life each day in better ways than I could hope. God is good all the time, and all the time God is good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-2862211292118385789?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/2862211292118385789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=2862211292118385789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/2862211292118385789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/2862211292118385789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2008/12/gid-is-good-all-time-and-all-time-god.html' title='God is good all the time, and all the time God is good.'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SUhCg4Ad5mI/AAAAAAAAADY/FkXS8Hitw1E/s72-c/Me+and+Sara.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-1577783031991327416</id><published>2008-07-11T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:07.497-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweetness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SHgQQoQekDI/AAAAAAAAACc/sThXofeQYq0/s1600-h/Spring+and+Summer+08+Chicago,+CO+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221941645806571570" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SHgQQoQekDI/AAAAAAAAACc/sThXofeQYq0/s320/Spring+and+Summer+08+Chicago,+CO+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictured above is "Lobster Bee". This is a new insect Gardner and I discovered in my backyard. Notice the little guy next to the purple flower near the top of the photo. It's actually a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Snowberry&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Clearwing&lt;/span&gt; Moth, but to Gardner and me it will always be Lobster Bee. Look for us on Discovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite words in the English or any other language is "cartographer". I think I learned this word in about the third grade, and I've loved it ever since. It's a great sounding word, but it's also one of the coolest professions I can imagine. Map making must be so interesting. I was thinking about maps recently and where I'd make mine go if I was a figurative cartographer. I thought about times when I made mistakes. What would I tell myself if I made a map that could take me back to the moment just before I made some of my most colossal blunders? Or maybe I would go back to all the happy times. Would I go back to kindergarten the day we watched it snow outside Mrs. Myers' room? I mused and mused about the ideas of all the places I might go. And then, I got still.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight I sat outside and soaked up as much of the cool July evening as I could. I watched the sun go down and the sky show my favorite dark blue, gold, and rich pink. The moon shone this bright, beautiful silver. The giant oak trees in my backyard and Mr. Nichols' yard showed their intricate shapes sharp against the blackening sky, and I heard the voice of the Lord. It's amazing how when we are still, it's impossible not to know He's God. I couldn't help but think of all the goodness in my life. My family, who are so dear to me, my wonderful friends, my job, my Campaigner girls, my home, and everything sweet and good in my life &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;occupied&lt;/span&gt; my thoughts as the idea of cartography came back to my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'd make a map to this very moment if I could. See, at this moment, God loves me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;infinitely&lt;/span&gt;. I know this because of His word and His work in my life. My friend Lila and I had dinner at Big Ed's tonight, and it was delicious. We talked and talked, and I was encouraged to hear her talk about other friends in her life with the love and concern she has for everyone in her life. My friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Teagan&lt;/span&gt; is happy and in love with her husband, and I couldn't be happier for her. Amy, my faithful friend, spent the night driving around in her Jeep with her friend Jenny last night and loved every minute of it. My friend Joy exemplifies her name in every way. My sweet family and I just spent some really good time together, and I was struck by just how precious they are. My sister and her family are happy and good, and they are seeking the Lord at every turn. My mom loves me and cares for me so effectively and efficiently that I feel like I can take on the world. My brother took me to pick up my car at the shop today, and he made me laugh with his gentle silliness. Nikki, my youngest sister, and I got to go to Chicago together, and she was amazing. I just have so many blessings, I could never tell of them all. The hand of the Lord is evident in all these things. His goodness has caused my cup of joy to overflow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My nephew, who happens to be the joy of my heart, was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;stinkin&lt;/span&gt;' good on our trip to Myrtle Beach this week. He sang Toby Mac songs all week. I wanted to bottle that sound up and keep it. We swam, and swam, and swam. We were doing this trick in the pool where he would put his feet on my stomach and I'd hold his hands, allowing him to lie back in the water. I would turn around as fast as I could as I held him. The first few times, he would look back and make sure I wasn't going to bang his head into the wall. So, I put my hands on his face and said that he didn't have a thing to worry about when I was taking care of him in the pool. I said I wouldn't let him get hurt. I asked him if he knew why, and he said it was because I love him so much. I told him that was right and so he shouldn't worry. He laid back and he enjoyed the ride, trusting in my love for him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope the Lord will continue teaching me to do that with Him. I think about the map He's made for my life, and I know that it's covered in sugary sweet fingerprints. It's He who has directed my life to such places of goodness that I can hardly take it all in. I would also venture to say that the places I had the toughest time with would have the sweetest fingerprints on them. I'm glad to know that He's the cartographer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-1577783031991327416?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/1577783031991327416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=1577783031991327416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/1577783031991327416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/1577783031991327416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2008/07/sweetness.html' title='Sweetness'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SHgQQoQekDI/AAAAAAAAACc/sThXofeQYq0/s72-c/Spring+and+Summer+08+Chicago,+CO+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-8720767296520385601</id><published>2008-05-19T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:07.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Redemption</title><content type='html'>I have my students do crazy assignments all the time. Sometimes I make them write poems that make no sense or write a story about the posters on my wall. I always have a purpose, and I have hope that my assignments will be fruitful. They are sometimes, and sometimes they're not. One time, though, I got more than I ever asked for. I asked my students to write about redemption, who needs it, how does one get it, what does it mean. Their responses were overwhelming. Everyone one of them said that people all need redemption. Amen to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have known about and thought about redemption and how I need it for a long time, thank God. Almost twenty years ago, God redeemed my life from the debt of sin I owed and brought me from death into life. All the goodness in my life is because of Him, and I'm so glad He saved me. But, I'm even more glad that He didn't stop there. See, redepmtion doesn't just mean all of these things: to buy back, to get or win back, to free from captivity by payment of ransom. It also means to restore and to repair. God redeemed me, he freed me from my captivity, but He didn't stop there. He's been restoring all the hurt and all the bad in me for a long time now. He's repairing all the broken and all the mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In The Scarlet Letter, there is a rosebush outside the jail Hester Prynne is in, and the narrator tells us that the rosebush is to symbolize "some sweet moral blossom, that may be found along the track, or relieve the darkening close of a tale of human frailty and sorrow." Well, I may not wear my sin on my chest like Hester does, but without the repair and restoration God works in my life, mine would be a tale of frailty and sorrow. But, because of His tender love and mercy, it's not. Instead, there is hope. Instead, he puts beauty in my life where I have only sewn selfishness and ugliness. I know people always say you reap what you sow, but, if I did, my life would be horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The roses in this picture are from a bush in my backyard that I get to look at every day. My granny planted this bush and tended it. She used to take pictures of all the beautiful things in her backyard, and we, her family, thought it a bit odd that she took so many photos of plants and flowers. But, I just realized that maybe she was up to a little more than that. She usually was. See, when I see those flowers, I can't help but think of God's goodness. I want to capture that beauty just like she did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those flowers remind me that He is the author and creator of all that's good. They remind me that He can fix what's broken. A friend of mine told me about a time she and an ex spent part of a night at a Family Inn off 75N. She gave him her heart and her body, and he turned the TV remote control back in at the end of the night for a 5$ refund. She was broken after that, broken hearted and broken in spirit. But, God repaired that brokenness. He reminded her that He sees her as beautiful. He reminded her that He gave His life for her. And so, her heart is healed. I'm glad God took care of her, and I'm glad He takes care of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much good in my life, I almost can't believe it. I think of the great family I have and the way they love me at my worst. My nephew is the coolest kid on the planet, and he loves me so much. My brother and sisters make me feel like I can do anything. I have friends who love me even after I have wronged them and been a huge jerk to them. I have a beautiful house I live in for free. My backyard is full of honeysuckle that smells so sweet. I have a great job in a safe, encouraging environment. I have the peace of Jesus that passes all understanding and the promise that He is working and moving in my life. He's getting rid of all the bad and replacing it with His goodness. Whew, my life is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a picture of both my nephews in all their cuteness. Gardner was sticking a straw in the hole where his tooth once was. Silas is chillin' with Aunt Carol. Dang, I love those kids. These are the gorgeous roses in my yard. They are amazingly beautiful. I wish this computer had smellovision. I'd put the honeysuckle smell on here. Since it doesn't, stop by the old Cavin homestead and smell ya some. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SDIZZLrtfCI/AAAAAAAAACE/V3jRjKDUQqw/s1600-h/Fun+Springtime+088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202248439989894178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SDIZZLrtfCI/AAAAAAAAACE/V3jRjKDUQqw/s320/Fun+Springtime+088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SDIZLrrtfBI/AAAAAAAAAB8/vuDcf4LvFHs/s1600-h/Fun+Springtime+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202248208061660178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SDIZLrrtfBI/AAAAAAAAAB8/vuDcf4LvFHs/s320/Fun+Springtime+027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-8720767296520385601?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/8720767296520385601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=8720767296520385601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/8720767296520385601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/8720767296520385601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2008/05/redemption.html' title='Redemption'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/SDIZZLrtfCI/AAAAAAAAACE/V3jRjKDUQqw/s72-c/Fun+Springtime+088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-7427180417324387385</id><published>2008-03-30T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:08.305-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God&apos;s Voice'/><title type='text'>God's Voice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R_A2qTA3lAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/rvQetTjXKP4/s1600-h/Spring+08+050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183703271389762562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R_A2qTA3lAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/rvQetTjXKP4/s320/Spring+08+050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R_A2RTA3k_I/AAAAAAAAABs/sgBfeUxDaYY/s1600-h/Spring+08+047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183702841893032946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R_A2RTA3k_I/AAAAAAAAABs/sgBfeUxDaYY/s320/Spring+08+047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This (left) is the beautiful bush in my front yard. It makes me so happy to look out there and be reminded of God's glory. I'm so glad he made things like this. At the top are the gorgeous tulips my beaufitul sister, Catherine, brought me Easter morning. She very thoughtfully gave me something that would for days and days and years to come remind me of her love, and, because it's an Easter gift, remind me of the new life sweet Jesus brings to us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This spring has been gorgeous. Good Friday was one of those days so full of beauty and sweet, gentle winds, and God's handiwork all around that I could hardly take in all of it. My heart was so full because of His rich blessings in my life. I sat out in the backyard and read and prayed and soaked up the beauty. There was a faint smell of wood burning, and I just wanted to shout, jump, dance or laugh because it was so beautiful. The beauty of this spring is not ulike the spring the year my nephew, Gardner, was born. It is fitting that the year he was born should be so beautiful. I remember thinking that I had never seen grass so luch and green or the trees flower so fully and richly. This is a spring like that. Everywhere I look I'm reminded of His greatness. As I think about His goodness, I want more and more to be closer to Him, and I feel that way when I'm outside taking in all the beauty of His creation. To think, He looks at you and me with the same sort of delight, only infinitely purer and sweeter. Zephaniah tells us in chapter 3 verse 14 "The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." What a sweet thought! I can't believe that the God of heaven would sing over me, but He does and I'm so glad. I may not know what His singing voice sounds like, but I'm sure it's amazing. And, if it's anything like the praises His creation is singing for Him right now, it's better than anything I've heard yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-7427180417324387385?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/7427180417324387385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=7427180417324387385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/7427180417324387385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/7427180417324387385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-above-is-beautiful-bush-in-my.html' title='God&apos;s Voice'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R_A2qTA3lAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/rvQetTjXKP4/s72-c/Spring+08+050.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-3320517130897070815</id><published>2008-02-06T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:08.411-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confidence</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R6p3XEjH_YI/AAAAAAAAABE/wYyf09K4TLo/s1600-h/Gorgeous+Sunrise+jan+31+08+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164071160975457666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R6p3XEjH_YI/AAAAAAAAABE/wYyf09K4TLo/s320/Gorgeous+Sunrise+jan+31+08+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hebrews 4:16 says: "Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may find mercy and grace to help us in our time of need." Amen and amen. I'm so glad that because Jesus died for us when we were still sinners, at one time objects of wrath, we are now alive with Him and able to approach His throne any time we need to. This glorious sunrise last Thursday was a real encouragement to me and a reminder that throne we're approaching belongs to a God who is FULL of glory and grace. I'm so glad He is!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-3320517130897070815?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/3320517130897070815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=3320517130897070815' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/3320517130897070815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/3320517130897070815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2008/02/confidence.html' title='Confidence'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R6p3XEjH_YI/AAAAAAAAABE/wYyf09K4TLo/s72-c/Gorgeous+Sunrise+jan+31+08+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-6539823857650955530</id><published>2008-01-18T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:08.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warrior Circle</title><content type='html'>This is a picture of the sunset from the hill beside the church across the hill from my house. (Whew, that's a lot of prepositions!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R5EnQSrJ4PI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cqRM3T4VH3k/s1600-h/Fall+2007+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156946209160159474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R5EnQSrJ4PI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cqRM3T4VH3k/s320/Fall+2007+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad is a fire fighter, and I am super proud of that. I also like the respect it affords me with little kids and older gentlemen who know what it means to work really hard and do something that matters. My dad taught me a lot about things that matter. He taught me specifics. There's a lot of value in specifics. When a writer wants a reader to identify, to connect, to understand, the more specific the writer is, the stronger and more natural the connection. Dad taught me that one should not just eat sandwiches. One should eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches with Lay's potato chips and Kool-Aid to drink. Or, better yet, one should eat a six inch BMT on white from Subway with spicy mustard, lettuce, tomato, pickles, green peppers, onions, oil, vinegar, oregano, and salt and pepper. Dad also introduced me to Miss Betty. Thank you, Dad! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another thing Dad taught me was to learn the roads in my town, and in any other I was in for that matter. He would drive different routes to and from places with my sister and me in tow. He would tell us the names of roads and remind us of what roads they intersected. I know Oak Ridge streets pretty well, and I think, if I needed to, I could evade an enemy through my careful knowledge of the backroads. I've always preferred back roads because of that. The scenery is much more interesting, and you have to drive slower. I like slowing down. It helps me pay attention. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing I love to pay attention to is sunsets and sunrises. Well, I like to pay attention to anything that has to do with God's beautiful world (my mom used to sing me to sleep with a song about that) really. A couple of weeks ago, there was a gorgeous sunset. All purple and golden with red streaks all across the sky. My heart thrills at the sight of a beautiful sunset. It reminds me of God's power, His glory, and His creativity. This particular night, I decided I had to get a better look at the sunset. My house affords a pretty good view, but the trees in my back yard were winning over the golden and red show I wanted to see. So, I hopped in the car and headed for higher ground. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Almost anywhere on Outer Drive (including East and West) is good for sunset viewing, the further west the better. I headed for the Hill Top area and was compelled towards Warrior Circle. Strangely, this was a road I couldn't recall ever being on. I wound around the circle with its Secret City homes and came to the north side of the circle. The view of the valley into Oliver Springs and on up to Wartburg was astonishingly beautiful. There were gentle purple peaks rising toward the every blackening deep blue of early evening. Set against those deep colors were the bright rays of red and gold streaking over the sturdy branches of the hard woods between the sunset and me. I couldn't help but thank the Father for His handiwork. I wanted to close my eyes and remember everything, but I didn't want to shut them for fear of missing a second of all that glory. I wanted to write that moment on my heart, but, fresh out of indelible ink, I asked the Lord to remind me of that moment. I prayed He would remind me of out of the way places touched by His power and glory. I'm hoping that same power will keep reaching into the out of the way places in my heart. The back roads in my heart are not as pleasant as I'd like them to be, and I pray He'll take them and make them safe and lovely. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so glad God brings His light to us. The name "Warrior Circle" reminded me of my favorite (okay, one of my favorite) verse. It's from Isaiah, and it's about warriors and light. It says:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.&lt;br /&gt;3 You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as men rejoice when dividing the plunder.&lt;br /&gt;4 For as in the day of Midian's defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor.&lt;br /&gt;5 Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.&lt;br /&gt;6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.&lt;br /&gt;7 Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so glad that there will be a day when there will be no more need for warriors. I'm so glad I serve the Prince of Peace. And, I'm really glad He brings light to the darkness. For me, the sunset is a reminder that He is the light. He's the Way and the Truth. And, He makes beautiful places like Warrior Circle. I'm thankful to my dad for teaching me the back roads, and I'm thankful to my Father that He's spending time taking care to bring light to the dark places in the back roads of my heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-6539823857650955530?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/6539823857650955530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=6539823857650955530' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/6539823857650955530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/6539823857650955530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2008/01/warrior-circle.html' title='Warrior Circle'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R5EnQSrJ4PI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cqRM3T4VH3k/s72-c/Fall+2007+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-7364660208225295355</id><published>2007-11-25T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:08.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revolutions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oiGCBTYCI/AAAAAAAAAAk/xjFi2SrVM5w/s1600-h/Fall+2007+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136955811986366498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oiGCBTYCI/AAAAAAAAAAk/xjFi2SrVM5w/s320/Fall+2007+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oh0CBTYBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/-32QzLWDfbo/s1600-h/Fall+2007+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136955502748721170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oh0CBTYBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/-32QzLWDfbo/s320/Fall+2007+022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oh0CBTYBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/-32QzLWDfbo/s1600-h/Fall+2007+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oh0CBTYBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/-32QzLWDfbo/s1600-h/Fall+2007+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                          This is me and the hunk of tree I cut off today! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My beautiful Christmas tree!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was in elementary and junior high (I think it should still be junior high and not middle school by the way), I was a dancer. I tapped, and I danced ballet like I was born to move to music. My body was fluid, and the music I danced to effervescent champagne sparkling, bubbling, and popping as I became one with the rhythm. I didn't think, I just moved. Okay, none of that is really true. I was a terrible dancer, but boy did I love it. I was uncoordinated, and I didn't know it. I thought I was great, and I thought I looked so beautiful in my flowing costumes. Tap was my favorite dance class because I loved to be loud, and I liked the life at connected to those silver taps on the bottoms of my shoes. My favorite thing of all to do was spot turns. They are these turns which require precision, and, done right, they look flawless. I never really could do them right, but I appreciated them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's interesting, though, because, now, I'm adept at revolutions. The spot turns, see, require one to look at a fixed point and turn the body without turning the head until the last moment then snapping the focus back to the fixed point. These days it seems I fix my attention on a problem, face it on my own strength, and then snap right back to the same problem with the same dilemma over whatever issue I'm facing. I look at the problem and then worry through it and hem and haw until I wear myself out. The last thing I think of is to ask for help. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A prime example is my stubbornness at doing things on my own that usually require at least one man if not more than one and certainly not one lady with an injured shoulder like myself. Case in point, I once moved a couch, a stereo cabinet (the kind for records), and a bed down three flights of stairs at my apartment. I have a broken tree limb in my red bud in the backyard, and I tried to break it all the way out of the tree this weekend. It didn't work. Today even, I bought my Christmas tree, hauled it home, took it into the house, cut off the bottom, put it in the stand, and got it upright by myself. Now, this is the exact same thing I did last year, and last year it was as hard as it was this year. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time doing it, but it really was a comedy of errors. I tried to saw off the bottom of that tree with my grandpa's old saw, and it was so stinkin' ridiculous! I am just thankful I didn't cut off my hand or anything else!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, I decided to call Mom for help. My step dad went right out to the shed to get a good saw for me. Let me just tell you, it took less than five minutes with the proper tools. I was so thankful. So, although I was revolving right back to my old pattern of doing things my own stubborn way, the Lord helped me out of my narrow perspective. It's like with the Israelites. They kept turning their backs on the Lord and making their lives more difficult for themselves. Yet, He lovingly kept calling them back to Himself. I'm so glad He calls me back. Hopefully, as time passes, I will learn to make Him my focus point and snap right back to Him. And, as I learn, there's grace in the mean time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A message from the Lord to the Israelites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'Come now, and let us reason together,' says the Lord, 'though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool.'" Isaiah 1:18&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-7364660208225295355?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/7364660208225295355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=7364660208225295355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/7364660208225295355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/7364660208225295355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2007/11/revolutions.html' title='Revolutions'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/R0oiGCBTYCI/AAAAAAAAAAk/xjFi2SrVM5w/s72-c/Fall+2007+020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-6289366994106603251</id><published>2007-11-14T18:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:09.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eBay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/Rzu58iBTX_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWeFMmb2Joo/s1600-h/Strawberry+Shortcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132900649894371314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/Rzu58iBTX_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWeFMmb2Joo/s320/Strawberry+Shortcake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been trying to collect little pieces of my childhood on eBay. I'm not sure why I began the process other than a desire for really cool eighties toys, but, I digress. I'm looking for the Little Orphan Annie necklace charm I had until I was about seven. I'm looking for this sweet Glow Worm I had as well. See, there's this girl I used to be, and I'm trying to find her. Maybe I think if I have some of her things like the Glow Worm and the Orphan Annie charm, I can get her back.&lt;br /&gt;She was fierce. Afraid of nothing but the toilet monster, she would ride her bike as fast as she could and she'd sneak onto Michigan Avenue on that bike and back home without anyone knowing. That girl was proud of scabs, and she didn't care how her hair looked (but it always had that healthy kid shine to it until she got it cut into a mullet by her well meaning mother). She laughed and told stories to beat the band. She was fun, and she believed in things with the tenacity of a cat fighting a plunge into the icy garden hose water in a plastic kiddie pool. I lost track of that girl, though. She started being afraid of things. Started being weak and lazy. The girl who used to stay out until the street lights came on and would then look out her window until she feel asleep became an adult who rejoices when it's bed time and keeps her windows closed.&lt;br /&gt;Wait, what the heck am I saying??? That's not really me. Now, I am a lot more jaded than I was when I was a girl, and I know things I wish I didn't sometimes, but the same God who loved me and watched over me then, watches over me and loves me now. Sometimes, I'm sad about the innocence I've lost or had taken from me. Sometimes, I feel dirty and used up, and I feel like that tough girl I used to be got swallowed up in life, but then, praise be to Him, He reminds me that that is just not true. I have been redeemed. Jesus bought me and paid for me, and He has made me clean. It's through His strength that I can do anything. He's made me a person who loves the outdoors. I can't get enough sunshine. I love to sit on my back porch and soak up the beauty of the Lord's creation. I love my family, my friends, and I love that He loves me in spite of all my hangups. I'm still looking on eBay, but I'm not looking for the same thing. I'm looking for these little toys I had when I was little mostly because I like them and they're really neat, but also to remind me that all that sadness, all my yuck, all my sin has been redeemed. Hopefully, this time I'll win the auction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isaiah 25:9&lt;br /&gt;"The sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove the disgrace of his people from all the earth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 103:11-12&lt;br /&gt;"For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS I also really loved Strawberry Shortcake when I was a kid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-6289366994106603251?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/6289366994106603251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=6289366994106603251' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/6289366994106603251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/6289366994106603251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2007/11/ebay.html' title='eBay'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/Rzu58iBTX_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/RWeFMmb2Joo/s72-c/Strawberry+Shortcake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-6506578363068866450</id><published>2007-09-10T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:58:09.045-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Actin' Tinactin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/Rzu6iSBTYAI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0cnGlUsb5DY/s1600-h/Photo+Shoot+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132901298434433026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/Rzu6iSBTYAI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0cnGlUsb5DY/s320/Photo+Shoot+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This may sound a little gross, but I think I have athlete's foot. Now, that's a little strange to me, because I am not an athlete. I do have feet, though, and they are itchin'! The slogan for Tinactin, Tough Actin' Tinactin, made me really think as I slathered the white gunk between my toes tonight. I'm so much like Tinactin. I can't think how many times a day I act tough. I like to think I can do anything myself. You know, move a couch down three flights of stairs, move a stereo cabinet down those same three flights, or fix my toilet. I'm so set on doing things without asking for help that I think I'm physically incapable of asking for it.                                                              This is me acting tough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I try to do my life on my own all the time, and it wears me out. I get tired and snappy and klutzy. I try to things in my own strength, and I push through and get things done. The whole time though, I'm thinking that I just need some help. I need a recuer. I need someone to tell me I'm not crazy because I talk to my Google homepage. I need someone to eat my dinner with or someone to tell me not to be afraid because I have to sleep with the windows open. I need someone to help me figure out my insurance plan at work. Then, the Spirit reminds me that I am not and will never be alone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My friend Pete, sometimes called Lee, beautifully delivered the Word this Sunday morning and reminded me that God really is working EVERYTHING together for good in my life. And, if I really believe that, in those moments when I feel lonely, I will recognize them for what they are. Maybe they are reminders that we are not home yet. Maybe those moments are the times when He would have me remember how much He loves me, that He even says He is the shade on my right hand. He's that close, knows me that well, and loves me infintely more than I could ever imagine. Pete also reminded us that one day, we will see the brilliant way our Father has been orchestrating our lives. I was just telling the same thing to someone the other day. We were talking about heaven and what it would be like. Would the questions be answered? What would we learn about our Lord? And the thought I could not escape was that when we get there, we will be overjoyed, awed, amazed at the wonder of His love and His perfect plan. We will see that He has loved us purely, perfectly, and proufoundly throughout each moment of our lives. And so, why should ever feel alone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The God of the universe is intimately involved in my life, and I am never out of His protection or care. Earlier in the week, I prayed that He would let me see my friend Reagan at school. I just asked that He would let me see her that day. Just before seventh period she popped by my room a walking miracle with the sweetest smile. And I could have shouted for joy (I almost did!)! He answered my prayer right then and there. That's the God I need to believe in, because that's the one I server, not the one I imagine when I imagine myself in miserable loneliness. Thankfully, He is the great God who takes care of me and gives me words like the ones He did this Tuesday. I read Psalms 125: 1-2. Those verses say: "Those who trust n the Lord are as Mount Zion, which cannot be moved but abides forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people from this time forth and forever." See! He surrounds me! I never have to be afraid of sleeping with the windows open or feel that I'm alone. God Himself is with me and takes care of me. Ahhhh, there is such freedom in His safety. I hope He will keep reminding me of that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-6506578363068866450?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/6506578363068866450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=6506578363068866450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/6506578363068866450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/6506578363068866450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2007/09/tough-actin-tinactin.html' title='Tough Actin&apos; Tinactin'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lqyr6KXlNRU/Rzu6iSBTYAI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0cnGlUsb5DY/s72-c/Photo+Shoot+009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-5429055180891937700</id><published>2007-08-25T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T07:11:50.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mornings with New Mercy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's Saturday morning! I just checked in on the little frog and lady bug who live on my Google homepage, and they were having sandwiches and sodas. They are so cute I can't stand it! It might be a little sad and cat ladylike that I am obsessed with these critters, but I don't care. Although quite warm, this morning began with such a beautiful pink tint to the sky and a nice breeze that I was instantly refreshed. I cleaned the house this morning and ate some Special K with strawberries. Later, I will sit on the back porch and enjoy the trees and the roses my grandmother planted and God grew. Living in Granny's house makes me think of her all the time, and I wonder what she loved about this house. She lives at Morning Point now. It's an assisted living home which she used to call "Mourning Point" when she first moved in. She was easily agitated then as she was grappling with losing her mind to Alzheimer's. She's to the point now where she doesn't know what's really happening to her and she's much more peaceful. My family and I ate dinner with her on Thursday night. It was delicious chicken pot pie with wonderful, spicy rolls. Before we ate, my aunt Joyce asked her husband Bruce to "return thanks". She made sure we all held hands, and that note of intimacy got at my heart. Then, Bruce began to pray and we all had to strain to hear him. He later said that he does not shout when he speaks to God. Anyway, Bruce prayed for a sentence or two, and then Granny began to pray over him. I cannot tell you how that moved me. It was like breathing for her. She thanked her Lord for the time with her family. She thanked Him for the food, and then she asked Him that He would help everyone get home safely. She closed with: "In Jesus' name I pray, Amen." It was all I could do not to lose it right there. So, I stuffed my face with the dinner roll and washed it down over the lump in my throat with some sweet tea. I was so touched that she, of all things, remembers Who it is that takes care of her. I was so thankful that the Lord gave her a life throughout which He has been the mainstay. She doesn't remember how old she is or the names of her children all the time, but she remembers who her Father is. She knows where to go for help. I'm so thankful that for so many years she walked closely with the Lord because He became her good friend - the only one who knows the intimate places of her mind and still reaches the innermost areas. What a pictures of our Lord's faithfulness! And such a reminder that hope is constant. We are eagerly awaiting a savior whose presence is here even now to guide us, protect us, and provide for us. And all this relationship, loving, living, eating dinner, and praying is possible because of His great mercy. Because, at just the right time, while we were still sinners, He died for us that we may be called sons and daughters of God. I'm praying that He'll remind me this week that even in a situation that seems as hopeless as Alzheimer's, He is the all powerful and consistently loving God who holds His children in His hands and hems them in behind and before. On a side note, I went grocery shopping last Saturday, and I have had a phenomenal week. Coincidence? I think not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-5429055180891937700?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/5429055180891937700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=5429055180891937700' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/5429055180891937700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/5429055180891937700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2007/08/mornings-with-new-mercy.html' title='Mornings with New Mercy'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4639771177906888082.post-2952874961143904233</id><published>2007-08-17T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T16:32:59.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friday Night'/><title type='text'>Because I Said So</title><content type='html'>It's the first Friday of school and I'm at home watching Because I Said So starring Mandy Moore. And, I had Miss Betty's for dinner. What could be better? I mean, honestly, I have the job I've always dreamed of, I'm close to people I love (geographically and emotionally), and the God of the universe loves me and takes care of me. Yet, somehow, in all that blessing, I still worry about things. I guess that's part of being human and not being home yet, but there really isn't a reason to worry. At the end of the day, I have everything I need, and any time I want I can approach the throne of grace with freedom and confidence. It just doesn't get better than that. The icing on the proverbial cake is that the Lord is intimately involved in my life. At just the right time this week, He reminded me of Hebrews 10:39 which says: "We are not of those who shrink back, but of those who believe and are saved." Amen and amen. This is Truth, and it means that when I'm worried about school and whether or not I have the chops to teach, He is sufficient. When I worry whether or not I will ever get married, He reminds me that the church is His bride. When I worry about whether or not the check I wrote for my insurance will clear, He sends His peace with the reminder that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and that I have not because I ask not. When I worry about worrying too much, He reminds me that He said not to worry because He is on His throne and He is in control. So, this week, by His mercy, I'm going to make an effort not to worry, because He said so. And His word is good. Also, I'm going to watch Mandy Moore struggle through finding a mate and I'm going to laugh at her and Diane Keaton with facial mask on my face and joy in my heart. I might also do the dishes. They are starting to smell a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4639771177906888082-2952874961143904233?l=constanthope.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/feeds/2952874961143904233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4639771177906888082&amp;postID=2952874961143904233' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/2952874961143904233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4639771177906888082/posts/default/2952874961143904233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constanthope.blogspot.com/2007/08/because-i-said-so.html' title='Because I Said So'/><author><name>Christi Noe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17855132010275808852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
